


spectare amare

by appleofmyrye



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: 3+1, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, M/M, Pining, Promises, feat. my love of Wales, gratuitous number of Europeans cities, i guess?, slight spoilers for every single MI movie ever made
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 06:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleofmyrye/pseuds/appleofmyrye
Summary: Will is quiet, his gun held loosely in his hand at his side.





	spectare amare

1\. 

Ethan’s in London. Again. By himself this time. Will is in his ear, like always when they aren’t in the same country. 

“Take the next left.” Will sounds tired. Ethan takes the left. For now, he’s on foot.

“Where are you, Brandt?” 

For some reason, he’s never called Will “Will” to his face. It’s weird, because Benji has always been Benji, and Luther has always been Luther, and Ilsa (when he had finally learned her name) has always been Ilsa. Never Will, though. That seems like something he’d need permission for.

Will doesn’t respond. Ethan walks the length of the street, on the long side of a roundabout, before Will speaks again.

“Stop here.”

He’s in front of a large townhouse. There’s nothing special about it, just one in a row of a dozen just like it. 

“Why here?” It’s not the only mystery Ethan can’t solve, but the most pressing one at the moment.

Will sighs. It’s another crushingly exhausted sigh, and it takes a minute before he speaks again. “Just, come inside.”

Ethan climbs the steps to the front door and turns the knob. It’s unlocked. Inside, the halls are dark and only faintly illuminated by a small array of windows at the end of the house. It’s just dark enough to make examining the objects hanging on the wall impossible. Something’s nagging at him, something on the tip of his tongue that his mind is struggling to comprehend.

After a minute, it comes to him. 

“You said come inside, not go inside.”

Will does not respond. Ethan takes another step into the house and quietly closes the door behind. Instinctively, he draws his gun.

“Brandt.” The voice in his ear he relies on so often to get him out of trouble is quiet. Ethan walks deeper into the house, clears the first room on the right side of the hallway.

There’s nothing in it but a bunch of old boxes. In the distance, the floorboards creak. Ethan backs out of the room and continues down the hallway. 

He’s cleared most of the rooms on the first floor when he opens the last one and points his gun directly at Will.

“Will.” The name tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop himself. Ethan lowers his gun and re-engages the safety. 

He manages a quiet “What are you doing here?” before Will shushes him, and hold an open palm out. Ethan hands him the earbud without question. Will manages a weak smile before he crushes it between his fingers.

Will is a mess. His hair is disheveled, probably from running his hands through it over and over again, and his clothes are rumpled. Ethan would be surprised if he had slept in the past three days. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” Ethan mutters quietly. Will remains still for a minute, then walks to the window. He looks out the blinds for a second, then quickly walks back.

“You can’t stay here. In London.” Will fumbles in his pockets, then pulls out a new earbud. “You’re lucky Hunley tells me things, so I can keep you safe.”

“What?”

“You remember Croatia?” 

Sometimes, when he’s trying to sleep at night, it’s hard not to. “Of course.”

“Those men you killed, they’re here. Or, their friends are.” Will runs a nervous hand through his hair.

“I killed all of them.” Not something Ethan wants to remember.

“Not all of their friends.” 

“Why are you here?” 

“Hunley was convinced you could handle them. I thought you might get distracted.” Will takes a breath. “Hunley doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me this on the phone? You didn’t have to fly all the way out here.” 

(He shouldn’t be here. Will can handle himself, but when Ethan thinks about what Will looked like when he talked about distractions, and how Will’s a distraction to him more than the people trying to kill him- 

He’ll think more about that later.)

“The friends are monitoring our communications.” Will gestures with the broken pieces of earbud in his hand.

“Who’s going to complete the mission?” The Prime Minister’s Advisor is a raging terrorist, in a move no one was surprised about.

“Jane’s here too. You stay here, and I’ll keep you off the radar.” 

“I thought I couldn’t stay in London-“

“In this house, you aren’t in London.” Will finally hands Ethan the new earbud. “This one can’t be tracked. Or hacked. Benji programmed it. As long as you aren’t seen in public, or by anyone, no one knows you’re here except Jane, Benji, and I.”

“And you’re sure Jane’s got the mission?”

Will looks at his hands. “Have you forgotten when she kicked Moreau out a window? I think she’s more capable than you could be, at the moment.”

Ethan thinks about Moscow, when he used the flare to draw the fire away from them, and frowns. “Since when do you need to protect me?” he mutters, somewhat quietly.

Will huffs a laugh, then holds up his fingers and begins to count. “Dubai. You fell off the tallest building in the world. I caught you.”

“And Jane caught you. Your point?”

Will holds up another finger. “Also Dubai, when we botched the code swap.”

“Ok. That was me too.”

Will gives up counting and crosses his arms. “Mumbai. Benji and I reset the systems so you could save the world.”

“Hendricks still kicked the shit out of me-“

“Benji told me about what happened in Morocco.” 

They stand in silence for several minutes. Will, who is always yelling at him, chiding him for whatever stupid mistakes he happens to make, is intensely staring over Ethan’s shoulder, not making eye contact.

“You were there-“

“Not for the part where Ilsa had to restart you heart! I was there for the car crash, which was also a really great idea.”

“What else would you have had me do? Not chase Ilsa?”

“You didn’t catch her anyway!” Will is fuming, something Ethan wouldn’t have predicted when they started this conversation.

“So, you would rather I wouldn’t have tried at all.”

“No, you fucking moron! I would rather you think about what you’re about to do, for once!”

“I was thinking about the Syndicate!”

Will runs his hands through his hair violently, then points in Ethan’s face. “You need to think about yourself.” 

They don’t speak for hours.

—————— 

They don’t see each other again for hours, either. Ethan talks to Jane briefly on his earbud, and she tells him exactly what Will does: don’t leave the house, don’t contact anyone besides her and Will (and Benji, if he happens to patch in but DON’T CONTACT HIM YOURSELF, as she says several times.) He never gets up the nerve to ask her how Will knows about Morocco.

He barely works up the nerve himself several hours after he talks to Jane. It’s late. Or early. The clock in the room he’s situated himself in is ancient, and nearly impossible to read. His biological clock says it’s way past time he would usually would be asleep. 

Instead of sleeping, he goes looking for Will.

It doesn’t take all that long. Ethan finds him in one of the larger rooms of the enormous house, in an armchair with a laptop balanced on his legs. Will, it seems, is having the same insomnia problem Ethan is.

“You don’t have to worry about me, you know.”

Will jumps a foot out of the chair into a standing position, gun half raised before he realizes what’s going on. “Oh. It’s you.” His voice is rough with lack of sleep.

“Who else would it be?”

Will is quiet, his gun held loosely in his hand at his side. Somehow, he has become more rumpled in the eight hours since they’ve seen each other. 

(Not that Ethan is counting. But the clock says 1:30, which means its been 8 hours, 27 minutes since they fought.)

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just-“ Will smiles bitterly. “I read about everything you’d done, before I had to watch your every move. Still didn’t prepare me for actually being there when it happens.“

“What about London? The first time.”

“It was a stupid idea, but it worked. That’s what matters. Plus, Ilsa did come through in the end.” 

“What about Dubai? You didn’t have any problems there.”

“That was different. I didn’t- We weren’t-“ Will stops talking for a minute. “We weren’t friends. Your actions only mattered as to what extent you could get the job done.”

He’s telling the truth. Bringing Will along into that train car had nothing to do with how much Ethan liked him: it had been a necessity. Even after he’d told Will the truth about Julia, they hadn’t become instant friends. 

“And now?”

“I don’t know.” Will drops into the armchair again, picks his laptop up off the floor where it’s fallen. Ethan watches him for a minute, then leaves.

When he sees Will the next morning, something is different.

From that point on, it bothers him when Will isn’t with them. When Ethan asks, Will always smiles and says something about how he’s better at running the numbers than running after someone. Analyst’s background, and whatnot.

To Ethan, it sounds like bullshit.

Still, he’s always there to whisper in their ear and inform them (particularly Ethan) when they’ve made a bad decision.

It’s not the same, though. Somehow, it’s different when Will isn’t there to berate in person, threatening to do everything himself. Ethan finally goes to Benji, one day when he can’t keep his thoughts to himself anymore.

“Maybe you’ve come to rely on Will more than you think.” Benji says solemnly, then turns back to his laptop without another word.

Ethan stares at him in silence. “What do you mean?” He bites. It’s not meant to be menacing, but Benji flinches.

“You can ask Jane, next time you see her. She’ll tell you the same thing I will.” 

It’s hard to read Benji without seeing his face, but Ethan would guess he’s frowning at his laptop. He finally grinds out a “Which is?” that gets Benji to turn around again.

“That you need to figure it out yourself.” 

That doesn’t make any sense. “Figure what out myself?”

Benji just shrugs, and turns back to his laptop.

Fine. Ethan will figure it out himself. Watch him.  
————————  
2.

Luxembourg is beautiful. It’s also tiny. The Uranium thief they are chasing has somehow disappeared into one of the smallest countries in the world, and they cannot find him. 

Or, he can’t. Benji’s currently tracking the thief’s credit records through the city, and the police can apprehend him quietly when Benji finds him. Which means Ethan’s crossed borders into a tiny country for no reason.

He’s standing on the Adolphe Bridge, on one of the pedestrian footpaths. The valley below is lush, almost beautiful enough that he can ignore the rush of traffic behind him.

His earbud crackles (the same earbud Will had given him in London, on Jane’s insistence) then, “What are you doing?”. It’s Will.

Will, who did not come with them, citing some sort of statistical reason (did you know 65% less work gets done when I’m not at the office, Ethan?), who is thousands of miles away probably sitting at a computer watching Ethan’s gps dot blink on a screen.

(Will, who would have known where to go in Luxembourg so that Ethan doesn’t feel bored out of his mind. )

“Turns out they didn’t actually need me here in Luxembourg. Benji says the police can handle it.”

He can hear Will’s frown. “So, you’re not about to climb underneath that bridge and wait until the dead of night to attack someone?”

“This bridge is the only interesting part of Luxembourg I’ve found.” Ethan pauses, to let Will worry a little bit. “Relax. I’m bored, but not enough to jump off a bridge.”

There’s a scuffling sound over the channel, and Will swears violently. If Ethan wasn’t a trained spy, he would have jumped a foot. Instead, he clutches the railing on the bridge until his knuckles whiten. “Will?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. What is everyone doing besides Benji?”

Ethan brushes him off. “Will-“

“I’m fine. It’s just-“ In the background, something hollow connects hard with someone’s body. Ethan can hear someone grunt through his earbud. “Hunley sent me to look at this abandoned baseball field in Missouri, and it’s not as abandoned as he made it out to be. Someone else is supposed to be monitoring you.”

“I thought Hunley assigned you to always watch over us, when you weren’t with us?” Another thunk, this one with a significantly louder crack. “Are you beating people with a baseball bat?”

“Technically. It’s actually a metal pipe.” Another crack. “This is not a very nice baseball field. And yes, I’m supposed to supervise you guys. I’m kind of multitasking.”

“You said someone else is supposed to watch us?

“Oh, yeah. But he’s an idiot. Normally, you guys don’t need any nudging, but in Minsk you held onto the side of a plane. While it was in the air. It’s hard to get over the shock factor.”

“And also you know us.”

“And also I know you.” Will concedes. “It’s a lot easier to manage people when you can predict what they’re about to do.” There’s a metal clattering in the background noise.

“Why would you be looking at a baseball field? That seems a little low priority.” He’s not worried about Will on the baseball field with several hostiles. Obviously Will can take care of himself. Nothing to be worried about.

Ok, maybe he’s a little bit worried.

(He’s not concerned about Will’s wellbeing. He’s done enough crazy things that Will aided in that he would expect Will to come out on top again 10 well trained people. It’s the tiny voice in the back of his head, the new one that’s appeared in the last couple of months, that’s screaming that Will shouldn’t be anywhere by himself doing anything dangerous, that’s causing him to be concerned. The rational part of his brain tells it to shut up, but the quiet part, the part that rarely tells him what to do, is urging him to listen.)

“Something about a new base of operations? He wants to move to a more discrete location. Not officially, of course.” Will exhales sharply. “You haven’t moved.”

“No. Was I supposed to?”

“You pace when you get bored.” Will’s right, of course. They’ve known each other for 3 years, tops, and Will knows all of his mannerisms, even the ones Ethan wasn’t sure he had in the first place.

He must be getting soft.

(It’s definitely not that sometimes Will is the only thing that reminds him that his actions have repercussions, repercussions that affect his friends, something he hadn’t really had to consider for a long, long, time. He really doesn’t want to disappoint Will.)

“How can I be bored? You’re on a baseball field in Missouri with a metal pipe, whacking people.” Even listening to someone doing the job his entire body is itching to do is enough to make him feel better. Will doing it is also a plus.

“I was whacking people. I haven’t seen anyone in a while. Is that really interesting to you?”

“More interesting than Luxembourg. It’s beautiful, but it’s just-“ Ethan pauses. “Lacking something.”

“Something on fire? An explosion? Someone for you to punch or otherwise maim?”

“Will-“ He’s ditched the Brandt, too. Sometime after London take two (or halfway through London take two) and Luxembourg, he and Will have become better friends. 

(He’s also just realized the reason he’s so bored is because he’s by himself, staring off of this bridge into a really nice forest, and he would so much rather be here with someone.

He doesn’t tell Will this.)

“I don’t think so.” 

Will sighs. “I know how you are. When was the last time you got to punch something?”

“2 weeks. A fortnight. The whole time I’ve been in Europe.”

“So too long.” Ethan gets the sense Will is making fun of him, but he can’t bring himself to care. “When will you guys be back?”

“Whenever Benji catches our target, which shouldn’t take that much longer.” The longer they talk, the more Ethan wishes their conversation was face to face, instead of thousands of miles apart. The faster Benji does his computer thing (which, when he was with Benji, he was told would go a lot faster if Luther was there to assist him) the faster he’ll get to go back to the States. And see Will. “You’ll be there?”

“Maybe you’ll be here.” And Ethan can just imagine Will, leaning up against the wall of a shitty baseball stadium, metal pipe dangling from his hand, people strewn out on the ground around him, smiling slightly as he invites Ethan to said shitty baseball stadium. 

He would be there in a heartbeat, if he could. Luxembourg will always be here. Ethan on great terms with Will only lasts, ever, for a couple of weeks at the longest. They’ve been getting along better in the last couple of weeks, but Ethan’s sure that’s not going to last.

“Maybe.”

Fuck, he wants it last.

His phone rings. Ethan fumbles with it for a second before looking at the caller ID: Benji.

(Why does he need a phone, he’d asked Benji, when he has a perfectly good earbud? Benji had looked at him like he was an idiot and launched into a speech about hackable vs. unhackable materials, and how the earbud was designed in such a way that it could not be contacted from a foreign cell phone such as him own, and so forth.

What Ethan gets from it is since Benji and Jane have both trashed their phones since London, he can only talk to to Will. 

No one’s asked him why he keeps the earbud in.)

“Benji’s calling. I’ll see you soon.”

“Right.” There’s a click, and Will is gone.

Ethan’s still smiling when he picks up the phone. “Yeah, Benji?”

Benji is not so happy. “The police are refusing to cooperate - I think he’s done something to them. Please tell me you’re near Adolphe Bridge.”

Ethan turns to the right and spots their thief sprinting down the footpath, knocking pedestrians out of the way. He grins wildly.

“Benji, book us a flight back. I got him.”

It’s the happiest Ethan has been in months.

———————-  
3.

Ethan’s never been to Cardiff before. He’s not sure he missed anything. It feels just like London, except the people are more loyal to their country. Sort of scarily loyal, actually. The war lord who’s plan they are supposed to foil is fiercely Welsh, and has planned to paint the world in the image of Wales, whatever that was supposed to mean. Wales is cliffs and ocean and brisk sea air, something that is definitely unique to the area.

When they had arrived, Benji had immediately dragged them all to the Millennium Centre, up Ronald Dahl Plass (He was sure it was Pass, but apparently plass is Norwegian for square, and you have to respect the culture, Ethan), to a frankly ordinary looking silver piece of modern art. Jane informs him it’s called the Water Tower. Benji interrupts and calls it the Torchwood tower, which makes Jane laugh. He doesn’t get it, and it doesn’t seem like Will does either.

Oh, and Will is there with them, which feels foreign. He looks out of place for a minute, but it’s brief. Every time Ethan catches his eye Will grins and things seem more normal. They way it did in London. 

(Jane hadn’t been there, but she had been sure to berate them more harshly than Will ever had as soon as she saw them again, so she was basically there.)

By the time they get to their safe house for the trip, the mood is more serious. They only have about 36 hours to pull this off, “this” involving an elaborate bait and switch followed by straight-up theft. Ethan’s only concern is that some of the plan seems to rely a little bit too much on chance.

“Isn’t that what all of our plans are like?” Jane points out, when he finally gets around to voicing his concerns. “I distinctly remember you hanging off of a building in Dubai with only some sketchy vacuum gloves.”

“They were not sketchy!” Benji protests, but he’s clearly laughing. Benji and Jane get into a lighthearted argument about their weakest plans that actually worked, and Ethan begins to formula a plan of his own. 

Which is why he doesn’t notice when Will disappears from his seat at the table and appears behind him. 

“Come with me.” 

Will doesn’t give him much of a choice. He drags Ethan by the arm into one of the spare rooms and shuts the door, wheeling around as soon as the door is closed.

“Please, please, tell me you aren’t going to do something stupid.” Will is pacing slightly.

“I never do anything stupid.”

“Fine. Let me rephrase that for you. Please, please tell me you aren’t going to do something reckless.”

That one hits a little close, but Ethan has a great poker face from years with the IMF. The lie comes out easier than it should. “Of course not.”

Will exhales sharply through his nose, and stops pacing to step closer to Ethan. “At least try to say it with a little more conviction, so I can pretend to believe it.”

(Will has always been better at deciphering his lies than anyone he has ever met, even Julia. His incredible spy skills aren’t going to do him any good here.)

“I’m not going to do anything reckless.” 

Will wraps his fingers around Ethan’s wrist, with his thumb on the pulse point. “Try again.”

“This is stupid.”

“Your pulse picked up. You’re nervous.”

(Of course he’s nervous. This is the closest they’ve been in months. If he wanted to, he could look up just a little bit he can count the number of eyelashes Will has. It’s nerve-wracking.)

Ethan takes a deep breath, closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to look Will in the face. “I’m not going to try to do anything stupid.”

Will laughs, something harsh and slightly bitter. “That doesn’t mean anything. Your resting state is doing something reckless.”

“Will. I promise I will try my very best not to do something reckless.”

“Bullshit!” One of Will’s hands is still wrapped around his wrist, but the other one is free to gesture wildly while he talks. “Name the last time time you completed a mission without being reckless.”

“Luxembourg.”

“Really? You dangled that guy off the bridge! You frightened hundreds of tourists! That guy was apparently heavier than you thought and you almost went over the edge trying to pull him up!”

“I left all of that out of my report.” Will wasn’t ever supposed to know.

“Oh, Benji told me. We keep a running tally of everything you’ve ever done.”

“Does Benji remember the time I did something reckless to save him?”

(He doesn’t like to remember that. The end had been very satisfying, but the in between parts when Benji’s life had been in the balance were some of the most stressful moments of his very stressful life.)

Will relaxes his death grip on Ethan’s wrist. “Of course. It still goes on the list.”

Ethan can’t think of anything to say. He’s 95% sure the next thing to come out his mouth will be the wrong thing. 

(Isn’t it funny that he likes to use statistics in his everyday life now? 99.99% chance that came from Will.)

“We could call Ilsa?”

To his surprise, Will nods. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Do you think she’s busy?” 

—————————————————

When they finally leave the room to call Ilsa, Benji gives him a knowing look, but Jane scans them both and frowns at him, clearly disappointed. He’s not sure what she expected.

He’s not sure what he expected either. 

(It’s not until later that it occurs to him that would have been the perfect moment to kiss Will.

He’s still not sure why he didn’t.

He’s also not sure when kissing Will became a possibility.)

—————————

Ilsa, as it turns out, is not busy at all. She’s more than ready to join them to do anything. Apparently, MI6 is very, very grateful for everything she’s done in taking down the Syndicate, but they still don’t trust her enough to send her to do anything. The curse of the longtime double agent. She’s bored out of her mind. 

She’s also less than an hour away by train. 

Ilsa arrives with her usual air of frightening intensity, accompanied by a cloud of malevolent foreboding. It’s mildly frightening.

Ethan wonders how they were expecting to complete the mission without her.

“It’s nice to see people who actually want me to do my job.” She throws her coat down on a chair and pulls off her sunglasses. “And Jane, that’s you, correct? I’ve heard so much about you.”

Ethan has forgotten that she’s never met Jane before.

Luckily, Jane laughs. “Hopefully all good things.”

“Of course. Did you really kick Sabine Moreau out a window?”

Jane grins broadly. “Out of the tallest building in the world. What can I say? She deserved it.”

Ilsa immediately points out ever single flaw in their plan (you can’t bypass the security system here, it’s more complicated than the one in Morocco. Besides, it’s not the best way in.) and creates a new one that is so much better, Ethan is shocked they didn’t think of it in the first place.

Ilsa also fits into their team like a puzzle piece they didn’t know was missing. By the time it’s actually time to execute their plan, it’s hard to imagine the team without her. 

The only one who does not seem happy with her is Will.

It doesn’t make sense.

(Will is the one who invited her here in the first place. So why does he glare at Ilsa like she waltzed in uninvited?)

Will glares at Ilsa while she walks through their plan one last time, the speaker her voice comes out of while she executes it, and the Uranium thief (all in one piece) when Isla brings him back with her.

He doesn’t let up until Isla is gone.

Ethan doesn’t mention it.

—————————  
+1

He should have mentioned it before this.

Turkey is beautiful. Ethan says that about every European city he ever visits, and it’s true. American cities have the same hustle and bustle, but European cities are packed with eons of history just waiting to be explored. 

They’re not even in the city right now. They’re is a loose term, too. It’s just him, and Will, and the Ankara Castle. Beautiful Roman Castle.

Ethan can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. He doesn’t know why no one else is with them, and it doesn’t really matter. 

Will brought him here, and he doesn’t know why. At some point, Will will tell him.

Will stands on the edge of the Castle, looking out over Ankara from above. He’s quiet: He and Ethan haven’t spoken more than a couple of words since they’ve arrived.

(They haven’t worked a mission together since Cardiff, and Ethan isn’t sure if it’s because he didn’t mention anything about Will’s reaction to Ilsa, or if it’s about how they haven’t spoken about their confrontation in Cardiff, or because they haven’t spoken at all since Cardiff period.)

He doesn’t know what to say to Will. Will, who is standing with his back to him. 

Did he do something wrong? The last time Will refused to speak to him had been completely justified, considering that Ethan had just thrown himself off of a cliff without a plan. That had not been one of his smarter ideas.

This is different. Will isn’t angry. He’s…distant.

Will turns, briefly, to face him. He frowns, fleeting but still there, then turns back.

“What?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just-“ Will trails off, still not facing Ethan. “I was just thinking. Nothing important”

“You think too much.”

“Some things are too important not to think about.”

“Like what?”

Will finally, finally turns to face him. “Our job.”

“What about it?”

“It’s incredibly dangerous.”

“So? It’s in the job description.” Ethan fiddles with his fingers.

“How long can you keep doing it, though?” Will takes a couple more steps toward him. He shuffles his feet, looks down at his hands briefly. “Forever? Until you die doing it?”

“Hopefully not. You?”

Will laughs bitterly. “I have a contingency plan - analyst will always be there for me. But you - you say hopefully, but in your heart of hearts, is that true?”

Ethan’s never thought of it like that before. “I don’t know.”

“Because it seems like you keep doing crazier and crazier things, and at some point it’s going to catch up to you. What are the rest of us supposed to do if you -“ Will cuts himself off. “It’s my job to watch you guys, especially you. And it’s very stressful.”

“You could resign?” To say this is an empty suggestion is an understatement. Will cannot resign. Will is vitally important to the IMF.

(To him.)

“I’m not going to resign. What would I do without this job? Aimlessly wander the world with the knowledge that you, and Benji, and Jane, are out there doing god knows what without me? I won’t resign. I just need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.” Will is close enough that Ethan could reach out and touch him. Ethan’s fingernails are biting into the palms of his hands to prevent him from doing so.

“You are not going to die on a mission I’m on, or monitoring, or any other mission, period. You are not allowed to die. Promise me you won’t.”

“I promise to try.”

“All you can promise is to try. You can’t completely promise.”

Ethan reaches out to grab Will’s wrist, and wraps Will’s fingers around his wrist. “Pulse?”

Will sighs. “Steady. What are you-“

“I am not going to die. Pulse.”

“Still steady. You’re telling the truth. You’ll try your best?” Ethan has never, ever, seen Will like this, completely resigned and worrying his lip. Will is always composed, or challenging Ethan’s plans with scalpel sharp logic. He is never, ever quiet.

“Will.” Ethan exhales slowly, then switches his grip on Will’s wrist, tugs him forward, and kisses him. 

(It’s quick, but Ethan is 100% positive that Will kissing him back.)

Ethan pulls back and only manages “I promise not to die-“ before Will slides his free hand into his hair and pulls him back in.

Kissing Will is nothing like kissing Julia, or Nyah, or Jane, or even Claire.

(And he had kissed Claire, once, before he had known that she was part of the plan to frame him for stealing the list.)

It’s different because he loves Will differently. He’d loved all of them, even Claire, and some part of him will always love them.

Will isn’t the only reminder that he doesn’t work for a faceless organization, but he’s the one that reminds Ethan someone will always be watching out for him, no matter where he is or what he’s doing.

This logic means he should also love the faceless IMF agent that takes over for Will when he’s too busy, but Will watches over him not matter what else he is doing.

And maybe that’s why he loves Will. Will is stubborn and acerbic and fiercely loyal. Will cares about him so strongly that time and time again he risks his job, the one he loves dearly, just to make sure the tiniest things work out. 

They’re in Turkey, and he’s kissing Will because Ethan just realized he loves him desperately.

They break apart after a minute, maybe five, maybe an eternity.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why would I say anything when you were going to figure it out anyway? Ethan Hunt, one of the greatest spies the IMF has ever seen, wasn’t going to be able to tell that I loved him? You took your sweet time with it, too.”

And Will loves him. 

Will is back in full force, too. He eases his hand out of Ethan’s grip and whacks him in the chest.

“Hey!”

“You just figured it out, didn’t you? I am always there to check up on you, make sure you aren’t killing yourself, and you just figured out that I cared? Really?”

And maybe Ethan did just figure it out, but he’s never, ever going to let go.


End file.
